Memories
by Hibbs
Summary: It wasn't all that bad was it?


I haven't written anything in ages, but I was bored at college the other day and this is what I ended up writing. It might be a little confusing, I don't know, I'm not sure on it myself. Don't know what you'll think or why I thought of writing it but reviews are always appreciated. Kat.

Disclaimer - I don't own any of the characters

Memories

She sits in a cold apartment, surrounded by cardboard boxes, all sealed up and ready to go, to her new life, away from this place, away from the pain and the happiness and the memories. It wasn't all that bad, was it?

She's nearly done, everything is nearly sorted, just one more closet to do. She gets up and moves through the silent apartment, with the last of the suns rays filtering through the blinds, into the bedroom, to the closet in the corner and opens the door.

The clothes have already been removed, packed up into one of the many boxes covering the floor of the lounge. She pulls the cord hanging inside the door and the dull light flickers on, illuminating the objects that have been left untouched until now. She doesn't know why she left this until last. She should have got the hard part over first, she knows what's in the closet, or at least she think she does.

She carefully lifts the items on the top shelf from their resting place and puts them on the floor. When the shelf is empty she joins them, sitting on the cold, hard wooden floorboards. She looks at each one before placing it into one of the boxes that are sat either side of her.

She opens up the small black jewellery case and takes out the necklace inside. The silver glints softly in what little light is in the room. She fingers it gently, remembering how much she used to love this piece of jewellery, how it gleamed and how the colour of the small stones set in the silver matched the eyes of the person wearing it. The smile that went with it, and the laughter, how she wished there had been more times like that. She carefully places it back in the velvet lined case and closes the lid quietly, just like she used to, so that know one would hear, and finds it a new resting place in the box sat to right and picks up the next piece.

Each one has a different memory, a different meaning to her, these were the happy memories, the happy times, the things she liked to remember, the times when all of their lives were better.

Most of the items went into the box on her right. There were some things that didn't, such as odd earrings, however pretty, and an old bracelet with the clasp missing that wasn't worth fixing. She didn't need to keep everything; she had plenty of memories without holding onto every little thing, no matter what they reminded her of. And some things she didn't want reminding of, those were best left here.

The last item from that shelf was now sat in front of her, alone in a sea of brown. She gently picks it up, turning it around in her fingers, feeling how the soft blue velvet that covers the box is unworn after all these years. She sits there knowing what it is, wondering how it had remained there, undiscovered, for so long. Eventually she opens it and looks at the ring, the small diamond still sparkling. Picking it up she gingerly places it on her finger, above a fairly similar, newer version that already sits there. It fits perfectly, she'd never realised that before, never tried it on before.

Suddenly, she takes it off and shuts it back in its box; memories are flooding back, of when everything went wrong, of when he left her behind. She wonders briefly where he is now, what he's doing, if his life improved when he left. Hers didn't, she knows that for certain. She sits there for a moment longer then shakes herself out of it and gets back to the task she was doing. He'll be here in an hour and she wants to be finished so she can leave all this behind forever.

She shuffles across the floor so she is nearly sitting in the closet and pulls the next object, from the bottom shelf towards her. There are old notebooks, now covered in dust, which makes her cough slightly when she blows it off. They are full of private thoughts, a permanent record of what the author was thinking at that moment in time. She doesn't open them, not wanting to know what they say, it doesn't matter anymore. These get placed in the box on her left, never to be read again, along with some old papers and a lone grey slipper.

Next she takes out a white shoe box, yellowing with age. Removing the lid she gasps, she didn't realise these were in here. She recognises them immediately but is surprised that they had been kept even though she hadn't seen them since that day years ago. She took each shoe out, unwrapping them from the frail tissue that surrounds them, and looks at the intricate detail sewn into the material. The delicate embroidery, the complex patterns, the carefully placed beads, the hours of work that must have gone into each one. Her mother had been delighted when she found them for her, they were perfect, but they didn't have the right size. She had eventually persuaded her mother to buy them and she had worn them to that wedding that was so long ago and had brought with it a lot of heart ache and bitterness but had once been so incredible and without it she knew she wouldn't be where she was today.

She is about to wrap each one back up in the paper when she sees the photograph at the bottom of the box. Picking it up she smiles at the memory of the day, she had been so happy. The picture showed her in a simple, brilliant white, flowing dress, stood next to her new husband. She saw the broad smile and the sparkling eyes which had first attracted her to him. Next to him was the best man, his best friend, tall and dark compared to her husband. On the other side of her was her bridesmaid, a long forgotten friend and next to her, her mother, her eyes sparkling and teeth showing in a huge, genuine smile and beneath the hem of her dress she could just see the beautiful shoes.

She stared at the picture for a while thinking back to that day and all the plans she had had back then. Wrapping the shoes back up and placing them gently on top of the picture, she put the lid back on the box.

There was only one more box left in the closet, she pulled this out, brushing the thick layer of dust off the top. Inside were two photo albums, she knew from memory which one belonged to her. She took out the other one and flicked through it and found herself smiling at the faces that grinned back at her. How happy everyone always appeared in photos, how much those smiles hid behind them. They can't all have been false could they? She put the photo album in the box on the right making a mental note to herself to forward it on to its rightful owner.

Next she took out hers and dared herself to open it, dared herself to face the past. Breathing in deeply she turned the cover. Again the smiling, joyful faces looked back at her. As she flicked through she saw something she had never noticed before in her eyes. She saw the difference in them as the image of who she used to be grew older, brief moments in time captured by a camera. She saw the distance that grew between the girl in the picture and the camera, the sadness and despair behind her smile, her eyes gave it away every time. She couldn't believe that she hadn't noticed it before, it was so obvious now, she didn't think she'd let it slip, thought she'd kept it a secret. She also saw the true smiles, the ones that were real, she saw them sparkle just like how her mothers had done in the wedding picture and was glad that not everything was fake. There had been good times even if they were overshadowed by the bad.

She reached the end of the album and was surprised to find an envelope with her name on, written in black ink in her mother's neat handwriting. Curious to find out what was inside she slid her finger under the seal and lifted up the flap. Inside was a single sheet of paper. Opening it up she read the simple message, 'I'm sorry.' She stared at the message, a single tear ran down her cheek before she could stop it, others threatening to fall but she held them back as she always had, she wouldn't let herself do this now.

"Abby?" startled, she quickly folded the message up and put it back in the envelope, composing herself.

"One minute." No reply, she knew he'd wait until she was ready.

She put her photo album in the box with her brothers and put the letter in the other, closing both the lids and stood up, switching off the closet light and shutting the door.

"Would you be able to take this box through?" She called gently to her husband who quietly walked in, giving her a reassuring smile as he picked up the box she pointed to.

"Are you alright?" She nodded in reply.

"I'll be fine."

"What about that one?" He motioned to the one left on the floor.

"That can be left here, there's nothing that I want to keep." She followed him out of the room taking one last look at the box containing the letter.

"I'll follow you out." She said, he nodded and left the apartment knowing she needed some time. Taking one more look around the shadowy apartment she whispered

"Goodbye Maggie, I'm sorry too." And shut the door.

As she met her husband in the hallway she smiled and said

"It's weird, I always thought I'd hate her, but now she's gone I miss her."

"Of course you miss her, she was your mother and you love her no matter what she put you through."

"And I never told her how much she meant to me."

"She knew how you felt." Abby nodded, meeting her husband's eyes, her hand slipping to her slightly swollen belly.

"I wish she could have met her grandchild though, she would have made a great Grandmother." He gives her a small smile.

"Well when he or she gets her, we'll make sure to tell them all about her. But now, we have to get home so that you can get some rest."

"Carter, I love you."

"I love you too." With that they leave the building and old memories behind to continue their new life together.

Please tell me what you think good or bad!


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